


Linger

by Floral_and_Fine



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25440880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floral_and_Fine/pseuds/Floral_and_Fine
Summary: Beorn worries about the reader's safety shortly after meeting her and the company.
Relationships: Beorn (Tolkien)/Reader, Beorn (Tolkien)/You, Beorn/Reader, Beorn/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea is based on that deleted scene where Gandalf introduces the company to Beorn. I just love that scene so much! I'll probably write another part to this.

You jumped every time you heard the loud hollow thud the ax made as it connected to the tree trunk. Peeking through the window, you saw a beast of a man. He was taller than anyone you had ever seen before, with long wild hair. 

With seemingly minimal effort, he swung the large ax again, splitting another log straight through the middle like it was made of butter.

Your body shivered, imagining how he could easily make quick work of the company if he chose. Not to mention, if last night was any kind of example, it would seem he wasn’t too keen on any of you. 

The rest of the company were bickering about what to do next. They were all rather cautious or afraid of the skin-changer, and they had reason to be. The bear all of you encountered last night was large, fast, and fearsome. The man seemed to be the same. 

It was no use listening to them though, they all talked over one another and they were getting louder by the second. 

Instead, you focused on watching your mysterious host chop firewood without pause. Your face began to heat up as you noted the way his back muscles tensed as he lifted the ax again, preparing for another swing. 

“There’s no point in arguing,” Gandalf spoke up, silencing everyone. With all eyes on him, the wizard explained that the company needed Beorn’s assistance. 

“Now this will require some delicate handling. We must tread very carefully the last person to have startled him was torn to shreds,” he explained heading towards the door. All eyes followed Gandalf, especially at the mention of being torn to shreds. “I will go first, and Bilbo, you’ll come with me.” 

No one was envious of poor Bilbo as they all made room for him to get to the door. 

“Is-is this a good idea?” Bilbo stuttered, his hesitation obvious about joining Gandalf outside.

“Yes,” Gandalf answered firmly. “Now the rest of you wait here,” he instructed. “Only come out in pairs, well Bombur you count as two, so come out alone.”

Just as he was about to head out through the door, he paused and turned back around. “Oh and Ms. Y/n, you will be the last to come out,” He added, facing you.

Your eyes went wide, but you nodded. 

“Yes… That should be fine,” Gandalf muttered mostly to himself. 

“Should?” You squeaked, but he didn’t hear you. He was far too preoccupied worrying about greeting your host. 

“Remember, wait for the signal,” Gandalf warned one last time before heading out. 

… 

The rest of the company filed out, leaving you and Thorin as the last ones to exit. 

Beorn didn’t hide his distaste as he stared down all the dwarves before him. A snarl practically formed on his face as his eyes reached the end of the line. However, his features immediately softened as soon as he spotted you. 

Gandalf noticed the immediate change in their host’s expression. “Ah, and that’s Miss y/n,” he spoke up. “She’s one of our companions as well.”

You waved shyly at the skin-changer. Who slowly lowered his ax, setting it down beside him. 

The giant man sighed, wringing his hands together. Beorn’s eyes flickered from you to the dwarves then back to you again. He was obviously mulling things over, trying to decide what to do with his unexpected house guests. 

With a drawn-out sigh, Beorn walked past Gandalf and approached the company. 

“You must be hungry,” He said looking directly at you. 

“Oh, we’re starving,” one of the dwarves chimed in, but Beorn chose to ignore your companions. His focus solely remained on you, patiently awaiting an answer. 

“A little,” you admitted with a shrug, feeling rather bashful over the attention. 

With a curt nod, he ushered you forward, back into his home. Beorn gestured for you to take a seat at the table.

“Your home is beautiful,” you complimented, admiring the beautiful details carved in the wood. You didn’t get a chance last night or this morning to really take in the craftsmanship. There were a lot of fine details that must have taken a lot of time and skill to complete.

He gave you a soft smile but it only lingered for a brief second and was replaced with a frown as soon your companions started taking their seats beside you and around the table. 

Beorn started placing food out, everything looked so delicious. There were various cheeses, fruits, nuts, and types of bread. 

Your host made sure that your plate was full first, not trusting that the greedy dwarves would be considerate of someone as soft-spoken and kind as yourself.

He didn’t understand how you were a part of this company, how someone as well mannered and delicate was associated with such loud brutes. You didn’t appear to be a warrior of any sort, and you weren’t a dwarf, so why were you assisting them at all?

You observed Beorn carefully as he towered over you, despite his great stature and strength, he was cautious of his movements, and despite his obvious dislike of dwarves, he was still fairly hospitable. Being in his presence had you feeling quite small, not in a bad way, necessarily, in fact, almost as if you were made of glass with the way he treated you so attentively.

Holding a large pitcher, he poured milk in your cup first giving you a generous amount which you doubted you would be able to finish. 

“Thank you,” you murmured as he moved on to the next cup. 

After making his way around the table and back to you, he held the pitcher in both hands, looking down pensively as he shared what had happened to him and his people. 

His story made your heartache, much like it did when your companions shared their story. Without thinking, you reached out placing your hand on his forearm in an effort to comfort him. You couldn’t imagine what he had gone through, what he had to do to survive, or how it felt to be the last of his kind. 

When he offered his assistance to Thorin, you were honestly surprised. 

Beorn provided provisions and ponies to the company in order to get all of you to the forest in time. 

…

As the company started preparing the ponies for travel, you couldn’t help but notice Beorn acting apprehensively. He was pacing about, double checking things, and kept asking Gandalf if they needed anything else. 

You approached him quietly clearing your throat to draw his attention towards you. 

“Thank you for everything,” you said, smiling sweetly at him. “I know it’s not easy, dwarves might seem unappreciative and careless but I do think they’re grateful.”

Beorn sighed, taking your hand in his, his thumb caressing lightly over your knuckles. 

“Must you leave with them?” He asked, his voice sounding rather defeated. 

“I made a promise.” 

“It’s not safe,” Beorn whispered, feeling how delicate the bones of your hand were and soft your skin. “I know what Azog is capable of…”

Beorn wasn’t quite sure why, but he cared for you, and he truly feared what might happen to you on this journey. He hasn’t known anyone like yourself to encounter an orc in which the outcome wasn’t death. He frowned at the idea, the unsettling image of the hand he was holding lifeless and limp appearing in his mind. 

Tilting your head you whispered his name, he had gone quiet but appeared to have something else to say. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, shaking his head slightly. “Is there nothing I can say to change your mind?” He asked, almost on the verge of begging. 

“I’m afraid not,” you said, giving his hand a slight squeeze. 

His expression conveyed his disappointment, but he nodded, accepting that you had to leave and finally dropping the subject. Slowly, Beorn led you back to where the ponies were and reluctantly released your hand. 

Without another word, he walked back towards his home. He wasn’t good at saying goodbye and was struggling with the fact that you were leaving. He felt like he was allowing you to walk straight to your death. 

Before mounting your pony, you took a deep breath and looked around one last time, really taking in the scenery, before leaving. This place really was beautiful, so serene and peaceful. Might be the last time you’re at a place like this, who knows what you might encounter next. 

As your pony slowly started trodding along, you turned back to see Beorn, who was standing by his garden with a solemn expression, you wondered if he felt lonely out here alone with just his animals. 

You wouldn’t mind visiting him again after this was all over, maybe spend a longer visit here, perhaps even help him out with the garden or the animals. 

You waved goodbye, a small sad smile on your lips. He gave you a small nod in response watching as you and the company disappeared past the horizon. 

He fought every urge he had to go after you. Trying to convince himself that you would be fine. You had managed to get this far more or less unscathed. 

Beorn stayed outside, working on the fields and tending to his animals until his ponies finally returned. He led them back to the barn, making sure they were all accounted for. Lingering by the pony you rode, he ran his hand through its mane. 

“I wish she had stayed,” he admitted, regretting that he let you go or didn’t offer to join the company in order to protect you. He gave the pony another good pat before heading into his home.   
…


	2. Chapter 2

The woods had been abnormally quiet lately, the air was still and all the woodland creatures appeared to be in hiding, there was no rustling in the trees and all the birds had stopped singing. 

Beorn hadn’t encountered any orcs either nor seen any sign of them for the last several nights now. However, he continued his patrols, making his rounds, keeping an eye out for any clue that would hint at what the orcs were planning. Their absence was an eerie one, a sign that something terrible was going to happen. 

Beorn wasn’t a fool, he knew their disappearance coinciding with the dwarves retaking their home was anything but a coincidence. 

He knew their little venture was a risky one, especially with Azog's interest in Thorin. No telling how far the orc would go to end the Durin line. 

He growled, wrinkling his snout as he prowled through the forest on all fours, the idea of you getting caught in the crossfire between Azog and the dwarves, angered him. He feared the worst would happen to you as a result of it. 

Beorn had, on occasion since your departure, imagined what it would’ve been like if you had stayed. What it would be like to have your company in the evening, your presence nearby as he worked, to be able to listen to you talk and laugh. 

He had been without companionship for so long, after the pain of losing his people, he avoided anyone other than his animals. Who would've guessed had become so lonely? That deep down he longed to be close to someone again?

As Beorn traveled to higher ground, he froze when he realized that in the distance a massive army of Orcs was marching towards the lonely mountain. With an army of that size, there would surely be a massacre. 

His choice seemed clear at this point, he would need to travel quickly to the Lonely Mountain if he was going to be of any help. 

…

Beorn staggered forward, his body shifting from bear to man. He fell to the ground, barely able to hold himself upon his hands, groaning as every bone in his body changed shape and readjusted position. 

The battle had been chaos, Beorn and the eagles arrived just moments after the orcs struck. Without hesitation he had joined the fight, biting and clawing his way through, while keeping a hopeful eye out for you. However, there had been no sign of you with the dwarves. 

Once the fighting had finally ended, and the remaining orcs had fled, Beorn resumed his search, even fiercer than before. 

Getting back on his feet, he grabbed a discarded banner and wrapped it around his hips, and held it up with his left hand. Men and elves gawked over his size, watching as he stumbled towards the camps. 

His bones and muscles ached from transforming in such quick succession, his energy drained from fighting, but he was desperate to find you. 

Beorn pressed on, limping forward, passing by nameless faces belonging to men, elves, and dwarves. His eyes searching for any sign of you. Many thoughts crossed his mind, should he remain hopeful that he’d find you alive and well or brace himself for the worst should he find you dead or not at all?

“Y/n,” he called from the center of the camp, his eyes darting back and forth. 

Tilda, Bard’s youngest, spotted the giant man calling for you. Too intimidated to approach him herself, she decided to find you for him instead.

She quickly made her way around the tents and rumble of the old city, finally finding you speaking with her father. 

“Y/n,” she said, tugging on your sleeve drawing your attention away from Bard. 

“Yes?” You chirped. 

“Someone’s looking for you.”

You furrowed your brow, “Who is?”

She shrugged, “no idea, never seen anyone like him.”

Filled with curiosity, you followed Tilda. You had no clue as to who would come looking for you, you had already seen the company. 

You stopped dead in your tracks upon seeing a very bewildered and naked Beorn calling out for you. 

Beorn?” You shouted, still utterly surprised to see the skin-changer here of all places.

He spun around and the moment he saw you alive and well, he collapsed to his knees. Without thinking, you rushed to his side and knelt down beside him. 

“Are you alright?” He asked immediately, his large hand cupping your cheek.

“I’m fine,” you shook your head with a small smile. “it’s you who needs tending to.” You looked behind you towards your tent, then back to Beorn, “Are you able to walk?”

He nodded, wincing as he rose to his feet. You guided him forward towards your tent and helped him settle down on the blankets. 

“You weren’t you with the dwarves...” he started, groaning as he laid down. 

“It’s a long story,” you sighed, preparing to tend to Beorn’s various cuts and bruises.

“I’ve got time,” he encouraged. 

You laughed. “I suppose you're right… well, after our encounter with the elves, we met Bard, who was kind enough to smuggle us into Lake-Town,” you began, wrapping his hand with a bandage. 

“Thorin offered the townsfolk a share of the mountain's riches for their help. I stayed behind when they departed... Kili had fallen ill, I offered to stay and help care for him.”

Beorn listened intently to your story. His eyes observing you carefully as you effortlessly talked and worked at the same time. 

You explained how Bard and his son slayed Smaug, and how you rejoined the rest of the dwarves, but by then Thorin had succumbed to the Dragon Sickness.

“He had become so cruel,” you continued, cleaning a long scratch on Beorn’s forearm. “the rest of the company was concerned for him as well.”

You sighed, setting the rag down and retrieving a salve. “I believe what Bilbo did was justified, so when Thorin called Bilbo a traitor, I left too and joined the others,” you shrugged. 

During most of the battle, you were with Bard’s children, trying your best to protect them, despite not being much of a fighter. 

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Beorn said softly, looking up at you. 

“What about you?” You asked, lifting your brow. “I can't imagine that you were anxious to help the dwarves out again.”

He looked away for a moment, before quietly answering. “I’m here for you,” he said with a serious look. 

“For me?” You stuttered, wide-eyed.

He nodded, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. 

“I’m happy you’re here,” You smiled, lightly pushing back his hair from his face and stroking his cheek tenderly, as you admired the rather gentle skin-changer.

“Now, sweet man, get some rest,” you urged, before pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

Beorn fell asleep easily enough, in fact, the sound of his snoring could be heard from all corners of the camp. 

He had traveled quite a distance in such a short amount of time, then immediately fought his way through an army of orcs just for you. The thought alone made you feel as though you were floating. 

Quietly, you tiptoed out of the tent in search of fabric. You doubted any of the spare clothing here would fit him, he was far taller and larger than most of the men at the camp. 

It was dark out when you returned, Beorn was still sleeping soundly in your tent. You found the sound of his snores oddly comforting. The nights here and on your travels had been far too quiet for your liking, making you feel rather lonely at night. 

Sitting in the corner by a lit candle, you worked on using spare fabric to make Beorn some pants. You couldn’t imagine what people had thought seeing him wandering around practically naked. 

Your face heated up as you pictured him standing there with nothing but a raggedy scrap of cloth to cover himself with. He was an attractive man in a wild sort of way, muscular with untamed hair. 

Lost in your thoughts, you accidentally stabbed your finger with the needle, hissing you sucked on your fingertip to help with the pain. 

Beorn stirred at the sound, “are you alright?”

“You heard that?” You perked up. 

“Mmhmm,” he answered, still partially asleep. “I can hear the mice outside the tent scurrying about, and even the horses braying in the distance.”

“That’s quite amazing,” you noted. 

He laughed lowly, “I suppose it is… what are you doing up so late Busy Bee?” 

“Just need to finish something first.”

He closed his eyes again, “you should be sleeping.”

“I will shortly,” you smiled, running the needle through the fabric again as you worked on finishing the seam.  
…

Beorn stared at you with an unreadable expression, his eyes focused on the pants you were currently holding out towards him. 

“It’s not my best work,” you started, fidgeting slightly. “But I figured it had to be better than nothing. I guessed your measurements, and I think they’ll fit at least well enough for you to walk around the camp, and if they’re too loose, I can take them in a bit. That wouldn’t take too long, I suppose.”

You continued to ramble as Beorn sat there somehow quieter than usual. This gift presented an odd dilemma with it. 

You made something for him, you had considered his needs and worked almost all night on it. According to skin-changer traditions, this could be considered a marriage proposal, a symbol of you willing to provide for him. 

Of course, he was aware that you were unfamiliar with skin-changer practices, but that still didn’t make this any easier on him. As the last of his kind, he was the last to maintain their customs and traditions.

“I’m afraid I cannot accept,” Beorn finally admitted.

Your shoulders slumped, your hands lowering, “why? I made them for you.”

Beorn sighed, “For skin-changers giving gifts is a romantic gesture to put it lightly.”

“Oh, I see,” you nodded, feeling rather embarrassed. 

The truth was you wouldn’t mind becoming romantically involved with Beorn, it wasn’t something you had given much thought to. But you couldn’t deny the attraction that was there. 

Not sure what else to do, you went about your day as he continued to rest. 

It didn’t take long for Beorn to heal, by the second day he looked as good as new. 

He sighed, sitting in your tent alone with his thoughts. He had no excuse to stay any longer, the animals at home needed him to return. He accomplished what he had set out to do, he fought orcs, found you safe and sound. It was time for him to leave. 

But that didn’t mean he wanted to leave, and he was completely aware of why he didn’t want to leave you. 

"Beorn?" You said lightly shuffling inside the tent, and successfully drawing him from his thoughts.

His intense gaze falling upon you. “Yes, little bee?”

You inhaled deeply and held out the pants to him again.

His brow furrowed, “y/n-“

“I know,” you interrupted him. “But please hear me out, my feelings for you are rather new, but I’ve traveled a long way to get here, and of all the amazing and terrifying places I had seen, the only one I wanted to return to was your home.” 

Your heart was racing, your face was flush, and you didn’t dare meet his gaze, instead, you stared at the ground praying he’d say something.

Suddenly you felt his fingers lightly brush against yours as he accepted your gift. 

Your head snapped up, as you looked at him with big eyes. A content smile formed on his lips as he leaned down and his forehead touched yours gently nuzzling against it while his large hands softly caressed your arms. 

“We’ll depart in the morning,” he whispered.


End file.
